


Of Cars and Anger

by hannah999



Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah999/pseuds/hannah999
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was still angry, though, what gave him the right to act this way? To not talk to me, not try to explain? No, that was inexcusable and I showed my anger in the only way that I could fathom at the moment. I raised my own hands and gripped his hair, still long from filming Sherlock, and raised myself up on the tips of my toes to slam my lips up onto his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Cars and Anger

**Author's Note:**

> Quick one-shot that I wrote between packing and trying to write my Dissertation (ugh) Benedict/Reader, NC/17. Not for the faint of heart.   
> Originally for a prompt on the Benedict Cumberbatch Frustration page which included an argument and a car. Not sure if this hit the mark, but, meh. I tried! Feedback is always lovely, even if it to tell me how bad I am at writing.   
> Enjoy!

My heel caught on the step as I rushed down the opulent staircase, uncaring of the expensive shoes that I was currently manhandling off of my feet. I’d splurged on myself this one time, new shoes, and new dress, new party, hopefully leading to new friends. But no. Oh no. He just couldn’t let me even have that, could he? I’d been looking forward to this for weeks, the time that Benedict would take me to one of his posh parties, show me off to his friends; we’d finally be official. I had daydreamed about it for the whole year we had been together. At the beginning we were both hesitant to come forward into the limelight, with his fans and the media being somewhat hung up on him we thought it was best to wait. So we did, but after a whole year together I didn’t want to hide anymore, I wanted everyone to know that we were together; that we were in love. Except, he was still reluctant, I thought at first he was just nervous as to what people would say about me, that he was somehow protecting me but I knew better now. I fucking knew. He wasn’t nervous or worried for me. No. He wanted his cake while he was already eating some. He loved it, the attention, the accolades, and the fucking women fawning all over him. 

I brushed off the tears that threatened to fall and hurried bare foot across the semi-deserted parking lot, reaching the car and struggling to open the door as I heard rushed footsteps approaching behind me. I became even more frantic; keys, keys, keys! Fucking keys! 

“Stop! Stop. Please, Sarah stop.”

Arms came around my body and tried to hold me still as I continued to struggle with the car. Finally, all strength left me and I sagged into the chest, using his body to keep my upright, I couldn’t fight anymore. I closed my eyes and stifled a sob trying to tune out the litany of whispered apologies.

“I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry Sarah, so sorry.” The words incensed me, the fight that had left me suddenly came rearing back as I stiffened in his arms, straightening myself up; he must have felt the change as his words drifted off and silence encompassed the parking lot.

“You didn’t mean it? You didn’t fucking mean it. Tell me Benedict did you mean it when you had half the women in the crowd surrounding you. Did you mean it when you left me at the beginning of the party, in a place where I knew no one? Had no one. So you could go off and schmooze with that tart with the – frankly fantastic pair of tits, that, yes, I did see you drooling at.” All of this was said calmly, I was never one to raise my voice in anger, and so I wouldn’t. He didn’t deserve it. 

“I didn’t… I swear… I would nev-“ I spun around so quickly that his arms were dislodged. He looked startled, like a baby deer. My gaze softened against my better judgement.

“Just. Why? Why did you do it? You knew I wanted to come with you. Be here with you. Not just stand around looking at you, especially looking at you flirting and laughing and, and” A kiss interrupted my rushed babbling. It was soft, warm and comfortable, for a moment I stopped breathing, stopped fighting and just relaxed. The soft pressure of his pillowed lips left mine slowly, leaving me just a bit colder. I kept my eyes closed; maybe everything that had happened tonight would disappear if I kept them shut. I felt his forehead leaning onto mine as his breath ghosted across my face

“Because… because I love you. I love you. And I’m scared, so scared that you’ll leave because of this fucked up job. That one day you won’t be able to cope with it and you’ll leave and I can’t… I can’t deal with that. Please. You can’t leave me.” He’d grown desperate halfway through his speech, tears dropping onto my cheeks as his hands gripped my face tighter. He loved me. He did. That doesn’t mean I forgive him. And so I told him so.

His relief was palpable, the tension in his shoulders lessened and loosened as he kissed the top of my head and whispered “Thank you”

I was still angry, though, what gave him the right to act this way? To not talk to me, not try to explain? No, that was inexcusable and I showed my anger in the only way that I could fathom at the moment. I raised my own hands and gripped his hair, still long from filming Sherlock, and raised myself up on the tips of my toes to slam my lips up onto his. It was harsh and hot; teeth and tongue with a metallic tinge that suggested one of our lips were bleeding. As my mouth plundered his, one hand came down from tugging and pulling on his hair to play around the gap between his trousers and dress shirt, the skin there soft and warm. Swivelling around and pushing Benedict up against the car door, I managed to unbuckle his belt in record time, snapping his trousers open and undoing his zipper took a little more coordination and I reluctantly pulled back from the kiss to see what I was doing.

Meanwhile, Benedict had one large palm cupping my jaw, while his other tugged and pulled at the strap of my dress, leaning down to mark my neck. I arched up into his caress, losing myself in the feel of his hot damp mouth on my skin. Realising I had become distracted, I renewed my effort and slipped my hand into his trousers, his arousal outlined in his boxer briefs, I traced its shape with my fingers and palmed his cock. It was hot and harder than I had ever felt before; my own arousal pooled low in my stomach, a burning ache that I needed to satisfy. Not content with how many layers were in my way, I roughly shoved his boxers and trousers down to his thighs, freeing his cock. He moaned and bucked as my hand immediately took a hold of him, pumping up and down in quick hard strokes. His hand left my face and I immediately felt bereft, until I noticed his preoccupation; he was opening the back door to the car, he distracted me by a quick bite to the lip, soothing it with his tongue. As soon as I noticed that the car door was open, I shoved him backwards, he fell with an undignified squawk that turned into a moan as I followed him. Climbing gracelessly over his legs and landing in his lap, his freed erection resting in between my thighs; feeling the hard length against my slick cunt, I started to grind against him, the head of his cock hitting my clit with every push. It was good, so fucking good, but I knew it would be better with him in me. And so I raised myself up and pushed my underwear aside, tilting my hips until his dick was positioned just so.   
“Beg” my voice is hoarse, alien to my own ears. My hands moved of their own accord; one reaching into his luscious hair and the other gripping his jaw; planting a hard kiss on his cupid-bow lips. “Beg for it”

He looked stunned and completely wrecked. I did that. I thought not that other woman with the too tight dress and the fake boobs. Me.

Mine.

“Please, please. Oh god, please.” His hands are on my hips now, squeezing hard. His acquiescence is music to my ears, his deep baritone voice echoing throughout the car and thrumming through my body making my clit throb in time to my heartbeat. I close my eyes to try and collect my self, but it’s no use; I’m too far-gone. My eyes open of their own accord and Benedict’s stormy irises are my undoing, I smash my lips to his and thrust my tongue into his mouth, dominating the cavern entirely as I simultaneously slam my hips down onto his thick length. He fills me and stretches me like no one has before, but I don’t pause like I usually do, instead I raise myself up again and grind myself back down, relishing in the burn it causes. Benedict’s deep groans and continued whispered pleas work in tandem to the sound of our flesh meeting and my own heaving breathing, creating a symphony of deviance. 

It’s hot now, the car window’s have steamed up and a bead of sweat rolls down my cleavage as I work myself faster, I can feel my orgasm building up; straight through my toes, down through my spine. I focus completely on my own pleasure; this is my reward and his penance after all and with one last thrust my orgasm over takes my whole body, warming me from the inside out, my walls clenching around Benedict’s still hard cock. Blearily I’m aware of his legs moving for leverage, as he thrusts up into my wet heat; I clench myself around him again and hear his hoarse shout of completion along with the warm gushing feeling of him cumming inside me. I collapse onto his chest as the last of my orgasm abates, basking in the warm after glow of a glorious fuck.

“Oh my god. Fucking hell… I can’t feel my legs.” His voice is raspy and out of breath; I giggle with whatever energy I have left and plant a kiss upon his sweat-soaked shirt, just about his heart. 

As the silence returns, so does the feeling in my limbs and I reach up to touch his face, he’s smiling; a little dazed but happy. “I love you,” I whisper, while gazing into his sea-foam eyes. They soften perceptively and his reply is lost somewhere between our mouths as he leans up and kisses me; soft, slow and warm.


End file.
